


Haiku Ku-ku-ku.

by Josey (cestus)



Category: Naruto
Genre: Bad Poetry, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-03
Updated: 2012-04-03
Packaged: 2017-11-02 23:40:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/374657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cestus/pseuds/Josey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An exchange of <strike>bad</strike> poetry between Iruka and Kakashi, one of whom might be taking it more seriously than the other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Haiku Ku-ku-ku.

**Author's Note:**

> Apologies for my appalling zappai.

Exquisitely calligraphed on handmade paper, watermarked with the symbol of Whirlpool and delivered to a certain person's door. A declaration of intent perhaps?  
 _A shinobi moon,  
Life lived amongst shadows.  
Come into the light?_

On a scrap of paper torn from the bottom of a mission report and slipped into someone's hand:  
 _Moons rise,  
So do other things.  
Training ground six._

Folded between the pages of a virulently orange book:  
 _Flames betwixt leaves,  
Opening and closed.  
The tree's roots reach deep._

Tied to a kunai and tossed through the window:  
 _The way of the ninja -  
Practice makes perfect.  
Same again?_

Tucked into a home-made bento the following day:  
 _Spring grass peeps through.  
The sun warm on my back.  
We go together._

Found taped to the coffee machine in the teacher's lounge.  
 _Mission's call,  
A score and three.  
I'll remember your taste._

Six weeks later on the back of a flower card in a hospital room:  
 _A thousand screaming birds.  
I dreamed of you  
And wept._

Three days after that, in a shaky scrawl on a paper napkin. 

Scribbled out somewhat vigorously (in fact it took some clever jutsu to read it at all):  
 _Ingenuous heart cups  
fire banked strength.  
Your love brought me home_

And below, much more clearly:  
 _Prescribed: bed rest;  
ennui inevitable.  
Your company is appreciated. _

Ten days afterwards in disappearing ink on the back of a C rank mission scroll.  
 _A precocious child for  
a precious tome.  
Thus promissory gifts are exchanged._

And five hours later in lieu of the mission report and resulting in much amusement:  
 _Returns department closed,  
Secret Santa on strike.  
Please take him back!_

That evening on a paper aeroplane made from a Ramen Ichiraku take-out menu.  
 _Price and cost may vary.  
Which of them  
are you willing to pay?_

Delivered by a sulking ninken a week later:  
 _A cracked spine and  
dog-eared pages.  
Convert or no, you owe me a new copy._

Pinned to a certain copy-nin's front door above a brown paper parcel the following morning:  
 _Volume one,  
Page thirty six.  
I'll meet you here._

Discovered in the middle of a pile of student's papers at lunchtime and hastily katon-ed to ash:  
 _Five fifty a.m.  
Your cock, my hand,  
It's a date._

Inscribed in India ink down the length of a pale back.  
 _Sun and moon  
meet in an empty sky.  
Scarlet camellias bloom._


End file.
